Do Not Send
by Poehlaris
Summary: Because the first page of every notebook reads: "Letters to Nobody. Please do not send." Rated T for now, may change later. Labeled General because multiple genre's will apply.
1. Author's Note

This is going to be a string of random excerpts from Todd's journal throughout his life. It will be out of order, pulled from several different journals entirely, even. It will be marked as 'Complete' and updated whenever I get the itch to write a new page. Some things to keep in mind:

1) Johnny the Homicidal Maniac was first published in 1995. Whether the information is accurate or not, here is how old everyone is at that time: Johnny - 22, Todd - 6, Devi - 21, Pepito - 6, Anne Gwish - 26, Edgar - 32, Jimmy - 18, Dillon - 23, Tess - 20, Krik - 21, and Tenna - 21.

2) Some of the above people may or may not be mentioned ever, but that's just in case they do.

3) OC's will be mentioned. They will not be Mary-Sue's or Marty-Stu's, I promise.

Enjoy.


	2. Dictionary

_June 16th, 1997_

I saw a bad thing on the news again. The news people said that another girl was found dead behind the mall. I don't remember their being a first one. They said someone drained her of all her blood. Her clothes were missing, too.

I tried to ask Daddy about it, but he got mad. He was always mad when I asked him questions. I tried to ask Mommy later, but she said nothing bad like that ever happens around here. We moved somewhere safe where there were no mean people. I think she was still medicated from last night.

I learned that word today. I heard Daddy use it once when he was on the phone. He was talking to someone from work. It sounded a lot nicer than things he usually said. I looked it up in the dictionary before bed. I've been learning a lot of new words this way. I think it'd just be easier if I could have one of those neat Word of the Day calendars. People in offices always have them.

I went to school today and heard the teachers talking about it. They all watched the morning news, too. It was hard to understand them sometimes. They liked to use really big words and whisper to one another. I heard one of them say that in the papers, they said she was _raped _and then killed. I didn't know what that meant.

I tried asking my homeroom teacher before class. She got really mad and started yelling at me. She lectured the whole class after that about asking inappropriate questions. I got lots of dirty looks after that, and this one kid (I think his name is Billy), kept shooting spit balls at the back of my head. I washed my hair in the sink before lunch.

I don't really have any friends to talk to about these sort of things. I did when I was little, though. Before we moved, I was friends with a kid named Joel. We used to play in the sandbox in his backyard and dig for buried treasure. We found a penny and three dimes one time. We used it buy a piece of gum and split it. It was awesome.

But there's still Pepito. It's really hard to call him a friend when he keeps setting the other kids on fire. Still, he listens to me, so I talk to him at lunch time.

I asked him about the girl on the news. He said that he didn't know much, but his Father didn't bring her home with him. I knew he was talking about her soul. I smiled a little at that. Then I asked him what 'rape' meant and he stabbed his fork through his peas. The cafeteria tray cracked a bit. He stared at me for a long time before he said, "you don't want to know."

I looked the word up when I got home. It didn't help me much. I was going to look up Sexual Intercourse next, but then Daddy yelled at me to come downstairs for dinner. It's been about thirty minutes since then and I still can't find my dictionary.

\- _Todd_


	3. Transmission

_November 12th, 2006_

Well, it finally happened. That old Chevy Caprice I bought a few months back? Yeah, it finally broke down. I was on my way home from school when it all happened.

See, the gears have been shifting funny ever since I got it. I don't know much about cars, but I figured it was harmless as ever. It's not like I can afford to have it checked out every time it starts acting up, ya know? Besides, it's a beater car. What more can you hope to get out of a car that you didn't even pay $500 for?

I'm not too sure about the technical aspects of it all, but a "friend" of mine says that with the way it sounded when I drove by, it was most likely my transmission. There are numerous things that can be done to a transmission to service it, I suppose, but it's a little too late for that now. Servicing it would be cheap in comparison to what it's going to cost to replace it!

The thing just didn't want to shift gears. I'd barely put my foot on the pedal and the engine would rev like I was trying to go 0-60. I had little old ladies passing me and going around me because it wouldn't get up out of its own way.

It's stuff like this that happens that makes me think I'll be riding the bus for the rest of my life. Not just the school bus, either. I'm a senior in high school for crying out loud! Everyone around me is driving around in something functional and then I show up in a Caprice and become the instant Crappiest Car of the Year winner. How does that even work? Ben Johnson can come to school with the "rape-mobile," as it's so endearingly called, and be totally unnoticed. Nevermind its hideous eggshell white, scratched paint job, or the atrocious shag carpet inside. It even has fuzzy dice hanging on the rearview mirror. No, he's never been a target for bullies with that type of car.

Jeez, I just wish kids would get over themselves. Not everyone is rich like Carla Summers. She's been driving around all year in her '06 Mustang without a care in the world. She gets the best parking spot at school and other kids are even afraid to park next to her for fear of accidentally hitting the side of her car. It's ridiculous.

Everyone I know either has a decent car or they don't. They're the kids, like I guess I'll be for the rest of my life, that are permanently isolated to the luxurious life of public transportation.

I'm just so frustrated! I work for minimum wage and pay out the nose for car insurance and then something like this has to happen. The really incredulous thing, though, isn't me or my car problems. No, it's how Nny's been driving around for years in that rusty... thing of his (what kind of car is that anyway?) and it hasn't broken down once! I've never seen it leak, never heard anything out of the ordinary from it, never even seen it have a flat tire. Sure, he hasn't driven it much since he came back from his "vacation," but still! What year is it? What magic powder did he sprinkle over it to make it indestructible? Why did my transmission commit suicide after my math test?!

The real sad thing about everything is that I still have to go to work. I don't have any money for lunch, don't have any food to bring for lunch, and the bus won't be able to get me there until ten minutes after my shift starts. I can't afford to be late, can't afford to eat, can't afford a new transmission, and I certainly can't afford a new brain to solve all of these problems.

A Fiz-Wiz from the gas station is too much to ask for right now.

\- _Todd_


	4. Stories

_October 8th, 2001_

My English teacher gave us an assignment last week. She said that we had to write a short story about two strangers falling in love. Pepito said that she was one of those hopeful romantics that had never actually experienced love firsthand. I didn't really understand what he meant.

So I wrote my paper like she asked and she was so eager to hear everyone's story. A couple of kids had just scribbled down a bunch of nonsense and threw in an 'I love you!' at the end. She had a funny look on her face, but smiled at them anyway.

I was really surprised to hear everyone's story, because it just didn't seem like something they would write. But it's like they all sat down and wrote it together, because everyone had the same kind of idea. Boy meets girl, girl does something stupid or finds herself in a bad situation, boy comes to her rescue, they "fall in love" and kiss. Sometimes someone would get married, too.

It really didn't make any sense to me how things would happen. I mean, these people were supposed to be strangers. They hadn't even really talked! The girl was always really beautiful from how she was described and our teacher seemed really touched by the romanticism. It kind of weirded me out.

I thought that since she liked what everyone else wrote, she'd like my story, too. I actually wrote my story loosely based off of a real event. Nny had told me the story a long time ago and I remembered it well, for some reason or another. I didn't really get it at the time, but it sure came in handy for this assignment.

So I wrote it along these lines: Boy meets girl, but he doesn't have the courage to really talk to her. She notices him always hanging around at her job and therefore makes conversation with him. He finally gets the courage to ask her out and they go on several dates. When they go back to his house, something strikes him. He can't be with this seemingly perfect woman! But WHY?! The boy realizes that he has a dark past and he couldn't possibly bring another human into his world. It wasn't bright enough for her. He went into a frenzy, he tried to get rid of her, but she just didn't understand. It all drove him mad. All he could do was tell her he loved her, or so that's what he thinks this emotion is, as he seals himself away in his basement for the rest of eternity.

I thought it made for a more realistic story. They were two strangers, but they were together over time. They didn't fall in love in a day. And like with any real love story, sometimes things don't always work out the way you want them to in the end. I mean, I don't know for real, because I've never been in love, but... I imagine that's more likely to happen than anything else.

The class stared at me as I read it and I knew they thought I was weird. Pepito sat in his chair, pulling at his hair, and he screamed at me, "WHERE WAS THE DEATH?! SOMEONE WAS SUPPOSED TO DIE!" My teacher just pulled me aside and said to wait after school, she was going to call my parents. I also received a 'D' as my final grade.

Something is terribly wrong here.

_\- Todd_


	5. Thanksgiving

_November 26, 1999_

Yesterday was Thanksgiving. Dad packed us in the car with an expired can of yams and week-old mashed potatoes to take to Grandpa's house. It was weird to see Mom all dressed up, but she kept asking Dad where we were going.

My two cousins Shelly and Oliver were there, too. We only see each other twice a year, but they always make the most of it. Shelly likes to talk really loudly and gossip about all of the kids from her school that I don't know. I guess Rudy killed his new cat and tried to give it to his brother as a birthday present. Oliver likes to eat and make fun of me. Especially if he can do them both at the same time.

When we sat down for dinner, Grandpa kept trying to pour salt and pepper on me so I would taste better. I cried and tried to run away. Oliver grabbed me and shoved the mashed potatoes in my mouth to keep me quiet. Then the turkey was served and Oliver was too busy trying to eat it whole and I got away. My aunt brought some fruit salad, so I took some and hid under the table until dinner was over.

Grandpa forced us all into the living room to watch movies while the grown-ups sat and talked. There was a lot of yelling and our president is trying to destroy our country.

Shelly complained through the whole movie and Oliver used me as a pillow. He kept farting and holding my head by his armpits. Then they both fought over what to watch next and I ran and hid in the basement.

Mom and Dad left without me and Uncle Roger wouldn't take me home. Grandpa wouldn't call Dad to come back and get me unless I let him have a taste of my youth-flesh. I locked myself in the bathroom and snuck out when he fell asleep in front of the TV to microwave some SpaghettiOs.

At least it's better than staying for winter break.

\- _Todd_


End file.
